Weight In Gold
by Shira Lansys
Summary: AU. Remus is a destitute werewolf forced to sell his body for a living, and Sirius the wealthy heir to the Black family. Rightfully their paths should not cross, but when Sirius is forced to take a firmer hand in the family affairs, he finds himself more involved with Remus than is proper. R/S slash, rated for mature content. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

"This place is disgusting, Father," Sirius muttered under his breath. As the heir of a highly-influential pureblood family, he'd been brought up to show better manners than to insult his hosts. But, of course, like most pureblood mannerisms and traditions, they only applied when your host was your equal or your social superior. And if Sirius knew anything, he knew that this place (and probably all the people in it) was _far _inferior to him and his family.

"Yes, it probably could do with a clean," Orion said mildly, looking down his nose as a grubby house elf scurried past. At least _their _house elves were trained to not be seen when they weren't wanted.

"No, I mean this entire _idea _is disgusting," Sirius argued. "Who came up with it, anyway?"

"Your great-grandfather," Orion replied in a bored voice. "You can take it up with his portrait when we return home."

"Why don't we simply sell it, Father?" Sirius asked. "Surely it does nothing for our family name?"

"It turns over a surprising profit," Orion told his son as he approached a large, wooden rectangle that Sirius assumed was a front desk.

"Go figure," Sirius muttered under his breath. If his family were screwed up enough to marry their cousins, why wouldn't they own a brothel for those few people who liked to fuck magical creatures?

There should be a law against this sort of thing, Sirius thinks to himself. The only thing that was in any way acceptable about this establishment was that at least they only had humanoid prostitutes. Not that Sirius doubted there was a market for hippogriffs or something… he stopped his mind before it even went down that road. Some things were too disgusting to even contemplate.

The sleazy looking man at the reception bowed to them, obviously recognising Orion as the man who paid his wages. "My lord," he wheezed.

"Rise, Westman," Orion bit out impatiently. "How can I talk to you if you insist on licking the floor?"

"Sorry, sir," Westman wheezed, straightening up slowly. "The brothel is doing well, as usual. I have the monthly report and the accounts right here."

He fumbled in what appeared to be some sort of cubbyhole behind the podium-like desk, and handed a book and a rumpled piece of parchment to Orion, who took it with a disgusted look. Sirius could see why - it was filthy, and his father very rarely touched anything dirtier than a polished silver goblet. "Very good," he said disdainfully, making it clear that it was anything _but _good.

"Can I interest you in anything else, sir? We have a veela available tonight. Or perhaps Master Sirius would like to request something?"

Orion turned up his nose. "I will not be requiring anymore help tonight," he said. "However, Sirius may do what he wishes."

Sirius looked up at his father, aghast. "What? You think I'd ever… you think I'd pay for something like this?"

"They have male creatures here as well," Orion said, by way of explanation. "And I don't only think you would, but I expect you to. Due to your undesirable… sexuality," he paused before he said the word, as though it was difficult to get out, "then it will be a while before we find you a male pureblood match suitable for the heir of the Black family."

Yep, that was his father. Totally okay with him being gay, provided he still did as he was expected and married, or civilly joined or whatever he was supposed to do, with some well-bred pureblood. He almost wished he'd been kicked out, as he'd expected, when he'd told his parents that he wasn't the least bit interested in the pureblood wench they'd picked out for him.

"So?" Sirius demanded. "I'd rather hang myself than take a creature from here."

"Then I'd better buy you some rope while we're out," Orion said coldly. "You _will _use these services. It sets a good example - in between my coming of age and when I married your mother, the profit we made here increased by three hundred and sixty-eight percent. People follow the example of the Blacks. And you lack the forcefulness and air of command that befits a Black. This will be a good exercise for you."

Sirius was too shocked to reply. This was _sick_. Like he'd ever hire a… a… _harlot _anyway, let alone a non-human one. How could his father possibly _think_…?

But Sirius knew how. It was his duty to uphold the traditions of his family, no matter what his thoughts or feelings on the matter were. That's the reason he'd only had Slytherin suck-ups for friends. When he'd been sorted into Gryffindor, his father had marched into the school and demanded he was placed directly into Slytherin. Sirius had no idea how he'd convinced Dumbledore but, after sitting outside the Headmaster's office for over three hours, he was led to the Slytherin common rooms. James and Peter, the pricks he'd thought had been great friends, grew distant and cold in response to his house switch.

So he'd been stuck with the company of his cousins, and idiots like Malfoy, Crabbe, and Nott. That had been torture enough for his seven years of schooling, and now his father expected him to do _this_.

"We have a vampire tonight, sir," Westman was saying. "Amongst our regulars."

"Well, it's a little hard for me to know your regulars seeing as we never come here, isn't it?" Orion pointed out condescendingly. "We'll need to inspect them. Line them up out here."

"Right away, sr," Westman mumbled, stumbling off down the hallway behind the desk to what Sirius assumed were rooms of some sort.

After a few minutes, Westman returned with several male creatures, which he lined up, presumably so Sirius could inspect them.

"Anghel Vladimir." Westman said, "Vampire."

"A dwarf," he said, pointing to a short, stocky creature with a beard. "He has no name."

He listed of a number of other creatures including a goblin, a male hag (Sirius hadn't even known that they existed) and an imp. Looking at them all, Sirius felt even more nauseous that ha already did. Finally, Westman finished stating their names, just as a scrawny boy who didn't look any older than Sirius crept out of the hallway behind Westman, sneaking into line.

"Lupin, you're late!" Westman barked. It was amazing how he lost his meek air that he'd had around Orion when he was speaking to someone he deemed lesser than him. "When I tell you to come, you come immediately. I'll deal with you later." Then he turned to Orion and Sirius once more. "This is Remus Lupin - a werewolf."

Sirius felt sick at the thought he had to choose one of these creatures. He was about to refuse to participate in such a disgusting activity when he glanced at the werewolf just as the creature raised his head.

The boy - because he could barely be classed as an adult - had wide brown eyes, filled with fear, and Sirius got the feeling he'd rather be cowering in some filthy corner of a cold alley than be here in this room, knowing what might be to come. But at the same time, the stubbornness of his jaw and the way he held himself told Sirius that this creature still had what the other prostitutes lacked: pride.

He wasn't sure whether it was his Black blood coming out in him when that drew his attention. His father would say that it was because something like a werewolf should have no pride and, as a pureblood and a wizard, it was his job to break that pride. But somehow, Sirius didn't think so.

And there was some sort of… familiarity, Sirius thought. Like he recognised him. It was hard to put a finger on, but it was as though Sirius had seen him begging with a tin can on Diagon Alley - out of place enough to get a second glance, but not important enough to warrant a second thought.

He could have sworn he'd seen the creature before, though.

With that, he made up his mind. "I'll take that one," he said, pointing at the werewolf.

His father raised his eyes in surprise. "Really, Sirius? Are you sure you want to mingle with a being of such… foul blood?"

Sirius, who was watching the werewolf closely, saw him twitch, but the boy Westman had called Lupin held his tongue. A good thing, too, Sirius thought. His pitiful looks were barely able to warrant him being in this business as it was, without adding bruises to that already-scarred face as a punishment for insolence towards his betters.

He realised his father was waiting for a reply, and he looked up with what he hoped would appear to be disinterested eyes. "This one has too much pride for his status, father," he said, and was pleased with how genuine the statement sounded. "He needs to be taught his place."

Orion assessed his son swiftly, a calculating look crossing his features. Sirius would have held his breath if he hadn't thought it would look suspicious. Finally, Orion nodded his approval.

"Very good," he said. He seemed about to add something, when Sirius interrupted.

"I'll be paying the wolf directly," he told Westman. Judging by his thinness, Lupin didn't get enough food as it was, without the hefty price Westman would undoubtedly charge him for the service of finding him an employer. Sirius might be a Black, but he wasn't cruel; he wouldn't sit back and watch the creature starve just so scum like Westman could fill his pockets. It was the custom to pay the brothel, but Westman could hardly say no.

He dared not look at his father. He was taking a risk by saying that; if his father correctly interpreted that he was doing it out of misplaced pity for the werewolf then he might as well have simply refused to participate in this sick activity. He snapped at Lupin, "I'll pay you going by what I think you should be paid. If I think you deserve nothing more than a slice of stale bread, then that's what you'll get and you'll be grateful for it."

The werewolf ducked his head so that Sirius couldn't see his expression, and nodded awkwardly. Sirius wondered if he should demand that the werewolf look at him or not. He sneaked a look at his father - he appeared suitably satisfied by Sirius' performance.

"I'll be taking the creature straight back to Grimmauld Place, Father," he told Orion imperiously. "If I stay here any longer, I think I'll catch fleas." He barely waited for his father's agreement before he strode over to the creature, grabbing his forearm in a rough grip.

The werewolf flinched, but Sirius' reflexes were fast, and within seconds they were on the doorstep outside the London house. Sirius shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling of apparation in a heartbeat, but beside him the werewolf was slower to do so.

As Lupin coughed and spluttered, bent over and clutching his stomach as he fought not to vomit, Sirius had to wonder if the werewolf had ever apparated before. Judging from his reaction, Sirius would have to guess that he hadn't. Perhaps he should have asked before transporting him across the country so roughly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned despite himself.

At his words, the werewolf seemed to realise that he had company. He straightened up and made an attempt to hold back some of the coughs that were forcing their way from his chest. "Yeah," he grunted, coughing once more. "'M fine."

"Good," Sirius said, shortly and somewhat awkwardly. Then he cleared his throat. "Well… this way."

He pushed open the door, not bothering to announce his arrival. He held the door open for Lupin, who, looking startled at the gesture, wandered through the door as though meandering down a random street he'd never been on before. His casualness might have annoyed Sirius if it hadn't been for the look of wonder on the werewolf's face. _"Probably never been inside a real house before," _Sirius thought cruelly. Then he realised the thought was horrible and regretted thinking it.

But only a little. After all, it was just a werewolf.

He shut the door and moved past the creature once more, leading the way up the stairs. He assumed the wolf would follow and, sure enough, he heard a light padding behind him as he made his way to his room. It wasn't until then that Sirius realised the werewolf had no shoes.

He reached his room and entered it, not even bothering to invite Lupin in. Instead he threw himself straight on his bed. "Close the door," he said over his shoulder.

He rolled over onto his back so he was half sitting as Lupin pushed it shut. However, it had one of those old, heavy handles that you had to turn to close the door entirely. Lupin reached out for the doorknob, his sleeve over his hand, but pulled back.

Sirius frowned. "Shut it all the way," he ordered. Was the wolf thick as well?

"I can't," Lupin murmured, almost too low to hear. "Your door handles are made of the purest silver. I can't go near them, even with something covering my hand." He shrugged his sleeve further up his arm so that his hand was revealed, and Sirius could see, even with the dim light and the distance between them, that a welt or a burn of some sort was beginning to appear on his pale, scarred skin. Sirius' eyes widened; he hadn't even _touched _the door handle.

He hastily got up from the bed and advanced towards to door. Lupin flinched back, going so far as to take a step away from him. Sirius couldn't help noticing how the werewolf somehow managed to shrink into himself and make himself look smaller. Had he thought Sirius was going to hit him?

Instead Sirius reached past him and shut the door, purposely slowing and gentling the movement so that he didn't startle the werewolf. Lupin watched cautiously as Sirius backed away.

"Beats me how anyone can get close enough to fuck you when you're as jumpy as a jack-rabbit, Lupin," Sirius said idly. The werewolf ducked his head and mumbled something, which Sirius strained his ears to hear. He still missed it. "Can't hear you," he told Lupin.

"I said no one's ever picked me," he said more loudly.

Sirius regarded him with assessing eyes, not sure what to make of this revelation. On one hand, screwing a werewolf was better than screwing a gnome, so he couldn't imagine why Lupin would be unpopular. On the other hand, he himself didn't know why he picked the creature, so he could hardly fault others for skipping over him.

And he wasn't sure what to make with the information that Lupin probably didn't have much more of an idea about how this was supposed to work than he did.

"Right. Well, rest assured, I have no intention of shagging you," Sirius said. "I'm just doing this to get my father off my back." He saw the werewolf open his mouth. "I'll still pay you," he assured Lupin, guessing the question he was going to ask. "I was just going to offer you your usual rate, but apparently you don't have one. Ah well, I'm sure we'll work something else."

Lupin nodded, and then, after a moment's silence, cleared his throat. "So, um… what exactly do you want me to do then?"

Sirius shrugged, relaxing back on his bed. "Dunno. Entertain yourself, I guess. There's gobstones and a kitten in the wardrobe, and books over the-" he cut himself off, realising that the creature probably couldn't read.

"Over the-?" Lupin asked. "So can I not touch the books?" His eyebrow was raised, and Sirius was startled to see how much more comfortable he appeared now. His tone even sounded mocking.

"You can," Sirius said. "If you can read them."

He was sceptical, and perhaps his voice portrayed that because Lupin abruptly rose and padded over to the bookcase. Sirius wasn't sure whether to be curious about this seemingly-literate Dark Creature, or annoyed that it was proving him wrong. In the end, he settled for disinterest, pulling his own book (a muggle war novel) off his bedside table. At the last minute he remembered he was supposed to be keeping up a pretence, and cast a quick silencing charm with his wand. That ought to satisfy his father.

He soon became immersed in his book. Lupin was so quiet that he might as well not have been there at all. After a while, however, Sirius became curious and looked up.

He snorted when he saw which text the werewolf had picked out. It was a horribly complicated spell book that his father had given him - he'd attempted to flick through it once and had given up after a few mere minutes. He highly doubted the creature could understand a word of it.

Lupin, as though sensing the derisive snort was for him, looked up and raised an eyebrow by way of a question. Sirius shook his head. "Can you even read the words in that book?" he demanded.

"Yes," Lupin responded. "Every single one."

Sirius snorted again, and this time Lupin couldn't help but challenge him. "Is something funny?"

"No, no," Sirius said. "I just don't really believe you."

"Well I can. I've read the first chapter, and I could instruct you on how to perform the _Helsona Charm _if you'd like."

It was at that point that Sirius realised the werewolf's voice was more… refined, than one would expect of a homeless werewolf making his way by selling his body to any passerby that would take him. It wasn't as aristocratic as Sirius' own tone, but it was certainly scholarly in manner. He began to doubt himself.

"Why couldn't _you_ perform it, then, if you know so much?"

Lupin looked at him as though he was an idiot. "I'm a werewolf. I'm not allowed a wand. Can't own one, and you'd be thrown into Azkaban if you let me borrow yours."

Now Sirius thought about it, he did recall some legislation to that end. "Fair enough," he said grumpily, not willing to be defeated in a war of logic by someone who should ranked so very much below him in every way you chose to look at it.

There was more silence for another few minutes, before Sirius broke it again. "Go on," he said suddenly, referring to their previous conversation. "Try the spell. I won't tell anyone."

Lupin raised his eyebrow. "I don't think so," he said. "It might be Azkaban for you, but it would be the silver axe for me. I'd rather not risk it."

That shut Sirius up temporarily - but only for a moment. While Lupin's eyes returned to flicking back and forth across the page, Sirius stared at the werewolf, undisguised curiosity apparent in his expression.

"How'd you learn to read, anyway?" he burst out a moment later. Lupin sighed and set his book down beside him. Clearly it had become apparent to him that he was not to get a lot of reading done.

"I wasn't always a monster," he told Sirius. "And even after I was bitten, my parents thought that I might still be able to live a normal life. They taught me to read and write and add - all the basics like that. They even enrolled me in a school. I practiced a few spells with my dad's wand, too, although that was before they banned Dark Creatures from coming in contact with magical objects that they could use to channel their magic."

Sirius listened to his short spiel with rapt attention, and wished he would keep talking once he'd finished. He didn't know why, but he felt a burning curiosity about this strange thing that had wandered into his life.

"You were enrolled in a school?" he asked. Remus nodded.

"Yeah. Then the Ministry found out I was at Hogwarts-"

"You went to Hogwarts?" Sirius interrupted. "What year did you start?"

"1971," Remus said. "Same year as you."

Sirius was shocked by the revelations; more that Remus had gone to Hogwarts with him than the fact the werewolf remembered him.

He'd gone to Hogwarts with a _werewolf_.

"I don't remember you," he said. Remus shrugged.

"Like I said, it was only until they pulled me out. I wasn't even there for a week. I'm not surprised that you don't remember me; my leaving was very hushed. They didn't want to parents to know what Dumbledore'd let it. I think only the Board of Governors knew."

"Dumbledore let you in?" Sirius asked incredulously.

"Yeah. He said that I deserved to learn if I wanted to, despite my unfortunate circumstances."

"That sounds like the type of nutty thing he'd say."

"Yeah." Sirius heard the smile in Remus' voice. "He got in a bit of trouble for it, though."

"I'll bet," Sirius agreed. He glanced at the clock beside him and swore. "Bloody hell, it's late," he said. "We've been up here for hours." He must have been reading longer than he'd realised.

"So we have," Remus commented idly. "Do we pretend to finish now?"

Sirius grinned. "You bet. Muss up your hair a little. I'll just find you some money and see you out."

Lupin complied, and Sirius removed the silencing charm. He dropped a bag considerably full with galleons into Lupin's hand, and opened the door for him. He realised he'd have to see him out the front door too; its handle was also silver.

When they parted on the doorstep, Sirius shook Lupin's hand formally. "Glad to meet you… again," he said, once he was sure his father wasn't listening. There was a hint of smile in his voice.

"It really was a pleasure," Lupin said, and the slight happiness in the voice gave Sirius the impression that he wasn't lying. "I haven't read a decent book in ages."

They shared a grin, before Lupin awkwardly turned to go. "Well, thank you," he said. "Good bye."

Sirius muttered one last farewell before Lupin's back was retreating quickly and disappearing down the street. It wasn't until he was back in his room that Sirius realised Lupin not only had no way of getting anywhere, but didn't even know whereabouts in England he was.

He realised that he felt incredibly guilty for leaving the werewolf in such a situation, and he wondered idly what had changed so much in the past few hours. He was sure that, even just that morning, he wouldn't have had a problem with it.

* * *

**A/N: This was a story I wrote and posted a long time ago for the saying "You're worth your weight in gold". I always meant to rewrite and revamp this story before reposting it, but other than the odd touch-up, I haven't got around to it and don't see myself doing so in the future. I thought, therefore, that I'd post it as-is. I don't believe it's my finest work, but I do think it marks how much my writing has progressed over my time on . **

**Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Perhaps if Sirius had not been the heir of the Black family, it would have ended there. Perhaps he would have never again laid eyes on the werewolf, and he would have gotten married to some pureblood queer, adopted one of his brother's children to be the next Head of the family, and lived a normal life… well, as normal as life got for the Blacks.

But, then again, perhaps not. Lupin had captured Sirius' attention in an unusual way; there was something about the way those brown eyes had looked up at Sirius, so innocent but so world-weary, that kept the Black thinking about the wolf long after he'd left.

Sirius was never to know what would have happened had he not been the heir of the Black family. But he did know that what happened in the months following Lupin's introduction into his life turned his world upside down.

His father seemed satisfied with Sirius' efforts... at first. He didn't ask Sirius to use the services of the brothel again, instead turning his attentions to teaching. Apparently, it was very important that Sirius learnt how to manage the family affairs. While Sirius had spent his childhood being taught manners, family trees, and Dark magic, now that he was of age it became necessary to be taught other things - such as finances.

During the day, Sirius spent half of his time wandering around shady places and shops, making deals with the most dubious people. The other half of his days were spent in luxurious manors, at parties and meetings that were arranged with the intention of forming alliances and business deals with other wealthy pureblood families. Come night time, he was holed up in his study, pouring over accounts and reports of various financial ventures.

He still had to make time to "entertain" people - although he would have preferred not to, as entertaining actually meant inviting rich families to Grimmauld place, only to find out that he had to make conversation with the swarms of idiots his parents forced upon him. But other than that he had very little free time, something which he hated immensely. He began to wonder if this was all his life was going to be; spent day in and day out being an administrator of the family, doing nothing but work and managing the Black affairs.

He wasn't the only one frustrated with his tasks. After the incident at the "brothel", as Sirius had taken to calling it (it didn't actually have a name, or, if it did, it wasn't referred to by it), Orion Black had begun to seriously search for a suitable match for Sirius. By the end of the month, he'd gone over every eligible wizarding family in Britain with pure blood and suitable ideals. Funnily enough, none of them had gay sons.

Overhearing a conversation between his father and his mother one night, Sirius learnt that his father was beginning to look at foreign families. His heart sunk further; not only would he have to marry a complete stranger, but the person probably wouldn't even speak the same language.

So much for the "keep it in the family" policy that most purebloods had when marrying off their kids. At least if they'd been related, Sirius thought, he might have something in common with his future husband.

Sirius was becoming well and truly ensnared in the rigours of aristocratic life, but there was nothing he could do to free himself. Helpless to do anything but what his father said, he continued as he had been, resigned to living a miserable existence dictated by his father's commands and the expectations of a pureblood society.

And then... everything changed.

* * *

He groaned quietly to himself one morning when he saw his to-do list. It was the beginning of the month again – that meant it was time to collect the monthly reports. It also meant he had to collect even _more _finances while he was there, and he'd have to spend further time slaving over them. He didn't see himself getting _any_ sleep in the next few days.

Despite the temptation to crawl back into bed, pull the covers over his head, and tell the world to go away, he resignedly went to get his warmest coat - it was winter now, and the day was overcast; a sure sign that it would rain later. Sirius wished it would hail balls the size of bludgers directly over all of his father's businesses - that way, at least, he'd have an excuse not to go.

His father would probably send him regardless, he thought to himself glumly.

So it was with leaden footsteps that he made his way to the front door, where he apparated directly to a dodgy apothecary that, for reasons unknown, gave 25 percent of its prophets to Orion Black.

* * *

By the afternoon, he was tired, grumpy and, unsurprisingly, wet. He'd been to almost all the Black business and had to track down three buildings that had spontaneously decided to move. And, to top off an already-terrible day, he'd been bitten by a monkey with a dragon's head.

At least it hadn't been able to breathe fire. "Give it a few months," the 'shop' owner had said cheerfully.

The point was that by the time he'd reached his last few places, he really wanted to be at home with his feet up on his desk and a firewhiskey in his hand. But instead he got to collect _more _reports.

"Oh, joy," he muttered sarcastically under his breath as he saw the next place on his list. _698 Greenways Corner_ - just the place he wanted to go. The brothel.

Westman was at the front desk again, and he seemed surprised to see Sirius. He bowed, although it was far less low than the one he'd given to Orion, and he rose quickly. "How may I help you, Master Sirius?" he asked.

"The monthly report," Sirius said. "And the finances."

"Certainly." Westman hobbled off - Sirius noticed he had a rather nasty limp that he hadn't had the month before, and idly wondered how he got it. While he waited, he looked around at his surroundings. Not that there was a lot to look at.

When Westman returned, he wheezed, "Would Master Sirius like anything else? Lupin is unavailable tonight, but we have-"

Sirius cut him off. "No thank you," he said, more politely than Westman deserved. He briefly wondered why Lupin wasn't available, but pushed it to the back of his mind. "Just the papers will do." He held his hand out expectantly.

Westman seemed reluctant to let Sirius go, but the young Black was insistent (and not in a very good mood). Soon, although not soon enough, Sirius was walking out of the grimy room into an equally dark, overcast street.

That was where he saw Lupin.

He didn't recognise him at first, partly because he wasn't expecting to see him _outside _the establishment, and partly because he was covered in cuts, bruises, and other injuries. But he caught Sirius' attention when he stumbled, lurching along the footpath and only managing to stay upright by falling against the wall. Even then it seemed he might simply slide down it onto the dirt-covered pavement.

"Fuck," Sirius swore when he noticed Lupin. Then he muttered a strong of curses even more vulgar and offensive. He hurried over to the werewolf and, noticing him slipping down the wall, unable to keep himself upright, he went to put his arm around him to help him up.

At his touch Lupin threw himself backwards, landing awkwardly on the path with a resounding thud. His eyes were wide, and he immediately began shuffling away as though Sirius was going to come after him.

"Lupin, stop," Sirius said, wanting to grab him but not wanting to startle him. "It's me."

What that was supposed to mean to him, Sirius didn't know. They'd only met once and it had been a month ago. But maybe it did mean something, or maybe it was just the fact that Sirius had spoken, because Lupin looked up, and it was then that Sirius noticed his swollen black eye with blood trickling from the broken skin around it.

"What happened to you?" Sirius asked, kneeling down beside him. He was careful not to touch him this time, though.

The werewolf had a split lip, as well, and several more cuts decorated his face. There was also a nasty-looking red welt that Sirius didn't want to imagine the cause of. One look at Lupin' body told Sirius that it was in no better shape - his clothes were torn and there were bloodstains dotted over what was left of them. Glancing at the werewolf's hands, Sirius saw that one of his fingers was bent at an awkward angle. He suspected it was broken.

The first thing Sirius thought was that he'd just undergone a transformation, but that was impossible - the full moon had been two weeks ago. The wounds looked too fresh and the transformation certainly wouldn't have caused a black eye.

"Nothing," Lupin mumbled, petulantly turning his head away. If the situation had not been so serious, Sirius would have laughed at how much he looked like a sulking child.

"Don't give me that crap," Sirius said harshly. "Someone beat you up, didn't they? Who was it?"

"It wasn't like that," Lupin said quickly.

"Sure it wasn't," Sirius said.

"It wasn't," the werewolf insisted. "It was… it was for money. They paid me."

"For mo- you _let _someone do this to you?"

"I had no choice!" Lupin burst out, his eyes flashing. But despite his anger, Sirius could see that the werewolf was right. His clothes had enough holes in to let Sirius see his ribs jutting out of his torso. The werewolf was literally nothing but skin and bones.

"What kind of sicko does this?" Sirius muttered, more to himself than to the werewolf. He crouched down so he could have a better look at Lupin's injuries.

Lupin answered anyway. "It's called BDSM," he said bitterly.

"I know what it's called," Sirius said, and then regretted it. His voice may have been a little harsh. Lupin fell silent.

"Look," Sirius said after a while. "Come back with me. To my place. I can heal your-"

Lupin cut him off. "No," he said. "I have to… I have to go back."

"What? So you can recover, or so you can sell yourself again?" Sirius asked. "If you're that desperate for the money, then I'll pay you." He didn't know why, but he felt oddly protective of this unfortunate boy, and somehow responsible for what had happened to him. Maybe it was that his family owned the place where Lupin worked - or because he had been Lupin's first customer. "Please."

Lupin looked up at Sirius with unreadable eyes, and it was as though an unspoken message flew upon darkened wings between them. Sirius knew in that instance that he'd won Lupin over, and held out his hand. The werewolf hesitated for only a moment before accepting it.

He was too light, Sirius thought as he pulled the werewolf up. The Black heir was far from the fittest person - if it wasn't for his natural good looks and his inherited slim body figure, the diet of a wealthy family combined with the amount of time spent at a desk (and the lack of exercise resulting from that) would have made him rather chubby. As it was, he was rather out of shape. However, Sirius had no doubt that he could have easily swung Lupin over his shoulder and marched him back to Grimmauld Place.

Instead he asked the werewolf politely if he was ready to apparate. Lupin nodded.

This time, when they reached their destination, Lupin did not seem to feel the nausea as he had before, but instead sagged further against Sirius.

This worried him, and he hastily got the werewolf through the door and upstairs. "Are you okay?" he asked, more than once. Lupin replied that he was just tired.

He sat the werewolf down on his bed, not even flinching when he realised that they would probably get blood on them.

Beginning with the werewolf's black eye (he'd gotten very good at healing those during Hogwarts) he slowly began mending the injuries that he could see. However, during his ministrations, he realised that the various bloodstains in Lupin's clothing meant that there was probably wounds underneath the shirt.

He hovered awkwardly for a moment before asking, "How's the rest of your body?"

Lupin looked startled - he'd taken to gazing off over Sirius' shoulder while the healing spells were cast. "No, no," he said hurriedly. "I'm fine now."

He went to get up, but Sirius stood in his way. "No, they aren't. I can see the bloodstains. I promise I won't touch you more than I can help it."

"It… it's not the touching," Lupin murmured. "I don't want to be a bother…."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. He knew that if it had been him who'd been through what Lupin had been through, then he'd certainly have a problem with people touching him. But he smiled anyway, and replied, "It's no bother. Strip the shirt off. And can you lie back on the bed?"

He acted confident, but in truth he'd never healed anything more than a few scratches and a broken nose before. Small bones and shallow cuts were easy, but when Sirius saw the state of Lupin's chest, he wondered how the werewolf was even conscious after losing so much blood. He drew in a sharp breath.

"Hold still," he said, and muttered a charm. He watched the werewolf shiver as it passed over him and the skin of one of the particularly large wounds began to knit itself back together.

He repeated this twice, but then frowned. "There's too much blood," he said. "I can't see what I'm doing. Is it okay if I get a warm cloth?"

Lupin nodded, and Sirius quickly ducked out of the room. When he returned with a facecloth, he saw the werewolf looked quite peaceful with his eyes shut, stretched out comfortably. Sirius wondered if he was asleep.

But when he sat down on the edge of the bed, the werewolf's eyes flickered and he made to move. "Don't get up," Sirius said soothingly.

There was something very… tender, about washing the blood off the other boy's bony, scarred chest. Sirius felt a streak of anger at whoever could do this to someone as innocent as the boy lying on his bed. People called Lupin a monster for what he was, but Sirius had no idea how they could when you compared such a delicate boy to the person who'd done this to him.

Lupin' breathing had been relatively fast when Sirius had begun, but now slowed down to the point where he could almost be asleep. The blood was nearly gone, and there was just one cut that Sirius had missed. He raised his wand to mend it when Lupin mumbled something.

"Sorry, what was that?" Sirius asked, not quite hearing it.

"I said you're very gentle," Lupin repeated.

"Hm," Sirius said, not quite sure what to reply to that. He touched the wound with his wand and watched the new skin form over the gash. "I don't think you need to be treated rougher than you already have been. Are there any cuts on you legs?"

"No," Lupin said. "The whip only went above my waist."

Sirius felt sick at the idea that someone had whipped an already half-starved person such as Lupin. He also suspected from the limp that there would be some tearing where Lupin had been entered, but he had no idea how to deal with that. "You should get into the bed," he advised Lupin. He didn't mind sleeping on his armchair - or not sleeping at all. He had a lot of reports to write up. "You look like you need it more than I do."

"M-no…," Lupin mumbled. "I have to go…."

"No, you don't," Sirius insisted. "You have to stay." The werewolf was already in such a position that it was easy to slip the covers over him. He sort of wriggled, falling naturally into the normal sleeping position with his head on the pillow. Sirius realised then how exhausted he was - he was barely awake to understand what was happening. He supposed the blood loss might have something to do with that as well.

Within moments, Lupin was snoring lightly, and Sirius heaved himself up off the bed with reluctance. He had work to do, as much as he wished he could go to sleep as well.

Despite his tiredness, he managed to stay awake while staring blankly at neatly-scrawled handwriting for the next few hours. He looked, but did not read, as the soft gentle noises of Lupin sleeping filled the room.

* * *

Sirius must have dozed off at some point because the next thing he knew was that Lupin was up sitting up on the bed and looking around with frantic eyes before spotting his ragged shirt and slipping it over his head. Sirius looked at him blankly for a moment before he remembered what was happening and asked him what was wrong.

"I have to go," Lupin replied. "I have to get back…."

He got up and made his way to the door as if to leave, but stopped a few paces from it. He looked back at Sirius helplessly, and it was only then that Sirius remembered the werewolf couldn't open the door. "Wait," he said quickly. "Let me apparate you back to the… that place. It'll take you ages to get there if you walk."

Lupin hesitated, before nodding. "Thank you," he said in a low voice. "I'd appreciate that."

"Hold on," Sirius said. Lupin looked impatient at the further delay, but turned back to the Black. "Those clothes are falling apart at the seams. You can't go out in them."

"I can," Lupin said insistently, almost defiantly. "And I can't afford any others."

"Those are the _only _clothes you have?" Sirius asked, his voice incredulous. Then a thought struck him. "How do you wash them?"

Lupin shrugged. "I get a bucket of water every three days to wash myself and my clothes with in return for being on call each night."

Sirius had been surprised by a lot of things about the werewolf - his injuries, his education, and the fact he'd gone to Hogwarts, even just for a week, included - and he figured that one day he'd get used to the differences in their lifestyles. That day, however, was not it. "That's barbaric!" he exclaimed.

"It's for the benefit of the customers," Lupin said. "They prefer us when we're clean. Well, most of them do." He let Sirius continue to gape at him for a moment and then added, "I really do have to be going."

"Not in those clothes," Sirius insisted. "You can have some of mine."

Lupin tried to refuse, but the Black had already turned away in favour of rummaging through his closet to find something that would fit. The werewolf looked as though he was about to complain for a moment, but seemed to change his mind. Instead a small smile tugged at his lips and he sunk down on the bed. By the time Sirius turned around, his face was as straight as ever.

"Here," he said, tossing Lupin a t-shirt, a jumper, and a pair of trousers. "Try these. They're the smallest I have."

Sirius turned away awkwardly as the werewolf stripped and redressed, and laughed when he turned back. They might have been the Black's smallest clothes but they were still far too big for Lupin, who looked like a child playing dress up. Sirius hadn't quite realised just how small the other man was.

"That's better," he said, although after watching Sirius laugh at him, the werewolf seemed unconvinced by the Black's show of sincerity. "Let's go."

They exited the room. Sirius was glad it was now late at night (or the early hours of the morning; he couldn't tell) and that Reg and his parents were asleep. While he was sure he could explain Lupin away as a prostitute for the second time, he didn't want to make it look suspicious.

And, he realised with some surprise, he was strangely averse to demeaning Lupin in that way. But he pushed the thought aside and continued downstairs.

Once they'd made it outside, Sirius apparated them directly to the brothel. Lupin murmured a thank-you and turned his back, hastily making his way inside. Sirius was a little put off by this dismissal, but he was also curious as to why the werewolf was in such a rush.

When he got inside, he found the werewolf engaged in a heated discussion with Westman. The brothel manager didn't see him, and he stood in the shadows, listening.

"What do you mean, you kicked him out?" Lupin was exclaiming. "I had that room; it was the agreement. When I'm on a job, Romulus gets to stay."

"Well, you didn't return," Westman said. "For all we knew, you coulda been dead. We ain't keeping the kid if that happens - he's on his own."

"Well I wasn't dead, and now I'm back," Lupin said. "You won't be getting the commission from me if you can't keep your end of the bargain."

It was so quick that Sirius almost missed it. One moment the two were standing there arguing and the next Westman had his wand at Lupin's throat. "Listen here, wolf," he hissed, and Sirius saw the spit fly out of his mouth. "I make the calls around here. You have no rights; I could end your life here and now and take the money, and the ministry wouldn't do a thing. Then where would your kid be? So you'll do as I say, _scum_, or you'll get what's coming to you."

Sirius then decided enough was enough. Lupin was standing tall, and he had a flash of defiance in his eye that told Sirius he wasn't going to back down. The Black was reminded of when he'd first met the werewolf; something had told him then that Lupin was something else.

He got that same feeling now - a feeling that said the werewolf would readily die here and now at this man's wand point before he submitted to anyone.

He stepped smoothly out of the shadows and cleared his throat. "Hello, Westman," he said casually. "I trust you don't assault the staff like this on a regular basis?"

"Master Sirius," Westman said carefully, not taking his eyes - or his wand - off of Lupin. "The wolf was giving me cheek. He needs to be taught his place."

"Does he now?" Sirius said, approaching slowly. "Because it seemed to me that he had a valid point. And his place, up until ten minutes ago, was with me. I would have alerted you to his… job," his hesitation was well placed, and executed with a flick of his eyes between Westman's face and Lupin's. "But I was reluctant to prolong the wait."

Westman looked as though he wasn't sure what to say or do, but he didn't move his arm. After a few seconds, Sirius snapped, "Remove the wand."

Westman did so, his cheeks red with humiliation and he glared at Sirius in resentment. "Better," Sirius said. "Now tell us, where's the kid?" He had no idea who the "kid" was, but he was damned sure that Westman wasn't going to keep Lupin from him.

"I don't know," Westman said sulkily. "I kicked him out and told him not to come back without Lupin."

"Great," Sirius muttered. "Which way did he go?"

"I don't bleedin' know, do I?" Westman snapped. Sirius raised an eyebrow at the impudence and made a point of moving his hand towards the pocket his wand was sticking out of. Westman eyed it before muttering resignedly, "I let him out the back. He went right."

Sirius nodded. "Thank you for your service," he told Westman coldly. "And don't let me hear of you threatening any more of our staff." Then, more for the sake of the act, he added, "Come, Lupin," in an imperious voice."

He marched his way down the hallway, hoping he looked like he knew what he was doing. He assumed "back" meant he had to traipse through the entire building; really, he didn't have a clue where to go as he'd never been past the reception part in his life. Once they'd turned a corner and were out of sight of the brothel he muttered to Lupin, "You'd better lead."

Lupin pushed past and led Sirius through enough corridors to warrant calling the place a rabbit warren. Finally the werewolf opened a door that lead outside to a dingy back alley, where he turned to Sirius. "Why are you helping me?" he demanded.

"You looked like you could do with a hand," Sirius said ambiguously. Truthfully, he didn't know himself, and it was a question he was constantly putting to the back of his mind to ponder at a later time that never seemed to come. "But more the point, who's Romulus, and how do we find him?" He offered Lupin a wide smile.

Later, he would realise that _this_ was when he passed the point of no return.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a dark, dingy house; the type of place Sirius was quickly becoming accustomed to. It wasn't far from Hogsmeade - the Shrieking Shack, the villagers called it. Sirius remembered it from his school days; the haunted place no one dared to get too close to. When Lupin explained why people thought it was haunted, Sirius had to laugh. With a few words, the werewolf had just severed years worth of myths and scary stories that Sirius had enjoyed as a Hogwarts student.

"Rom?" Lupin called quietly, poking his head through a rotting doorway. Sirius could barely see anything, but there werewolf seemed to know his way around. Cautiously, the two of them stepped into the dusty room. The air was tense, and the wind caused the old, twisted wood of the Shack to creak every few seconds. His nerves were on a knife-point, so tense was the air, and he almost expected a banshee or a giant acromantula to leap out and attack them.

A small blur barrelled into Lupin, causing Sirius to start and the werewolf to stumble back. Sirius almost pulled out his wand before he realised that the small thing was far from an enemy.

Instead it was a boy of about ten (or seven, or thirteen; Sirius didn't spend a lot of time around children) with dark hair and a pale, almost sickly, complexion. The light was too dim to see much else and he promptly buried his face in Remus' shirt, but when he looked up Sirius could see his features were pointy and handsome.

He could also see the scars and open wounds covering his face.

"Romulus," Lupin said gently to the boy, "this is Sirius. He's the nice man I was telling you about."

Romulus regarded Sirius with the utmost suspicion, his narrowed eyes only serving to accent his pointed features. The Black felt that this boy was reading his every feature more than a mother looking for a husband for her pureblood daughter ever could. He suddenly got the urge to stand straighter and tidy his hair.

Slowly the boy limped towards him, his face still scrunched up comically as he regarded Sirius with eyes that were far too old for his face. The Black couldn't help but notice a prominent limp shadowed his gait; he had no question as to how that got there.

The boy stopped in front of him and looked up at him. Sirius stared into his face as though willing the boy to like him.

Before his eyes, Romulus' slits of suspicion opened up into wide brown eyes that reminded Sirius of a startled animal. He moved slowly, but it caught Sirius by surprise when those thin, thin arms wrapped tenderly around his waist. The boy pressed his face into Sirius' abdomen (he was very small) and tentatively the Black wrapped his arms around the boy in return.

He looked up at Lupin, not sure what to do with this little clinging person that had latched onto him. The werewolf nodded reassuringly, looking like he was trying to hold back a smile.

Eventually Romulus released him, and returned to clutch at Lupin's hand as though afraid he'd disappear again.

"I found him in an alleyway," Lupin explained when Sirius asked. "It was close to the full moon, and he was just lying in the street, too weak to move. Someone had injured him, even more than they injured me. I knew he was a werewolf, and brought him back here, knowing that if I left him there he'd transform and hurt people. To my surprise, he survived the night. I would have thought he was too weak to live through it. But he did, and he's been with me ever since."

There was silence for a moment as Sirius contemplated the story, and Lupin sunk into thought so deep he probably could have drowned in it. The werewolf's hand was threaded through Romulus' hair, and the boy was leaning back into Lupin's touch.

"When did you two last eat?" Sirius said suddenly, realising that it was past dawn and Lupin had been with him since late afternoon. He doubted they'd eaten much before that, either.

Romulus looked up but didn't say a word, and Lupin didn't even realise anything had been said.

"Lu-" Sirius began, and then changed his mind. "Remus?"

The name got his attention and the older werewolf looked up. "Hm?" he asked.

Sirius repeated the question, and Remus shrugged. "I'm not sure; quite a while ago." He looked down at Romulus and asked, "Are you hungry?"

The boy nodded and Remus gave a wry smile. "Sorry, I guess I forget that I'm not the only one here anymore, especially when big things like this happen."

"I'll take you out for breakfast," Sirius offered. "After all, it's my fault you were delayed getting back to Romulus."

Remus snorted as though Sirius had said something hilarious. "Yes, your exceptionally kind, out-of-the-blue healing inconvenienced us so much that you have to make up for it."

"Well, it did," Sirius said. "And sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know."

"All the same, I hardly think it's necessary to make it up to us."

"Is that a refusal?"

Remus glanced into the pleading eyes of Romulus, and Sirius knew that his pride was battling with his love for the boy that desperately needed a decent meal. "…No," he said eventually.

"Good-o," Sirius said cheerfully. "Grab your coats-" he suddenly realised they didn't have coats. "On second thoughts, grab yourselves; we can buy you some coats while you're out. We're off to Hogsmeade."

* * *

"Rom's the reason I began to work at the brothel," Remus said in a low voice over his sausages and beans. Beside him, Romulus was wolfing down the biggest cooked breakfast the Three Broomsticks sold as if he hadn't seen food for days. Sirius realised that it was quite possible he hadn't. He'd to slip his hand into his pocket to make sure he had enough gold; the boy was almost done and he wasn't even starting to slow down.

"Is he?" Sirius asked curiously. He'd always wondered how Remus had ended up there, when he was clearly intelligent and, Sirius would have thought, too proud to take such a job.

"Yeah. I was only making enough money to feed myself before I came across Rom; another mouth was too expensive. He… he was already working at the brothel. I made him stop, but I couldn't support us, so I had to work there instead."

Sirius gazed in horror at the young boy innocently shovelling down bacon. He felt ashamed to know that it was _his _family's brothel that Romulus had been exploited in. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the child, who didn't even notice he spoke. He was too busy gulping down the food as though it might be taken away any moment.

"When I was living on the streets I thought that I'd rather die than do such a thing," Remus said. "But when I met Romulus, I realised there were worse things than dying."

Sirius gazed at Remus in wonder. There he was, depressed by the fact that he was set up to live a comfortable life, and here was a werewolf, the leper of wizarding society, selling himself to keep a child off the streets. "You're amazing," he whispered before he could stop himself.

Remus heard him and blushed, promptly burying his face in his scrambled egg. Which he hadn't eaten enough of, Sirius realised. "You need to eat more," he scolded Remus, donating his toast to the feed-up-the-starving-werewolves-cause. "Have this."

"I'm not feeling too hungry…," Remus said, pushing some of his egg around. Nonetheless, he scooped up a few more mouthfuls and took a bite of the toast.

Romulus had finished his breakfast now, despite the fact it was twice the size of Sirius' own. "Are you still hungry?" the Black asked kindly. Romulus nodded.

"Would you like the same thing again?"

Romulus shook his head and pulled across a menu, pointing to something on the menu. Sirius squinted and read out the title.

"Banana Split?" he asked. "For breakfast?"

Romulus smiled winningly up at Sirius, a wide playful grin that belied the cruel lot fate had tossed at him, and Sirius felt his heart twinge in sympathy for the youth. "Alright," he relented, and called a barmaid over.

Sirius was less surprised by his choice of breakfast, however, than the fact the boy _could _choose his breakfast. "He can read?" he asked Remus.

The werewolf nodded, abandoning the remainder of his egg in favour for his cup of tea. Taking a sip, he replied, "He could read very well when I found him, and I've been encouraging him to practice with old newspapers people have chucked."

"How can you practice with him if he can't talk?" Sirius asked.

"He can talk," Remus assured him. "He just doesn't usually. And I get him to read the paper before me, and point out words he doesn't know. Then I read the article to him."

"What's the point?" It wasn't a nasty question, but one asked out of curiosity. Sirius genuinely couldn't see the point.

Remus leant forwards conspiratorially. "Things are changing," he said. "Magical creatures that have been repressed are beginning to fight back." He continued before Sirius could interrupt. "Maybe the fight won't be today; maybe it won't be tomorrow. But by the time Rom's an old man, something will be in motion. And if there are decent, literate werewolves out there… then maybe _we _can be part of that movement, too."

Sirius wasn't sure what to say. Remus seemed so… fired up, when he spoke, and, although Sirius could never see it happening, it seemed cruel to tell him so. Instead he asked, "What movements?"

"Small ones," Remus said dismissively. "But they'll grow. It's a changing time."

"Why don't_ you _join them?" Sirius asked.

"I was. Then I changed my… profession, and they refused to have anything to do with me. I could hardly blame them; they want only respectable ambassadors to show the wizarding world that we aren't _all _bad."

Remus claimed that he didn't blame them, but his voice held traces of bitterness that made Sirius reach over the table and gently take the werewolf's hand in his own. "_You _aren't bad at all," he told Remus softly.

Remus looked surprised by the touch, and Sirius felt his stomach give an unfamiliar lurch at the sight of those blinking eyes looking at him with an untouched innocence. He pulled his hand away and looked down at the table, although he knew it wouldn't hide the distinct tinge that coloured his cheeks.

"Thank you," Remus said quietly. Sirius' head bobbed up to look at the werewolf; his tender tone drawing his attention. Their eyes met once more across the table, and Sirius felt as though he could drown in their depths. He didn't though; the waitress interrupted them by bringing Romulus his banana split.

"Where do you live?" Sirius asked, curious.

Remus shrugged. "Wherever seems best, I suppose," he said. "Abandoned houses, muggle homeless shelters - the wizard ones usually kick us out as soon as the werewolf registry catches up with us."

"So you don't live _anywhere_?" Sirius asked, appalled. "What about during winter? What about the brothel?"

"During winter we usually try harder to find permanent residence," Remus said. "We move to the shack if we have nowhere else to go, but it's really a last resort. It's not a pleasant place, especially seeing as we transform there. Rom especially doesn't like returning there during the rest of the month. And as for the brothel… well, it's a business, not a lodging. You should know how it works; you own the place."

"I don't own the place," Sirius snapped. Then he gentled his tone. "But you thought Rom was there," he pointed out.

Remus shrugged. "Sometimes we can spend the night there if Westman's taking a night off and he has his wife manage it instead. She takes pity on us - well, she takes pity on Romulus, and lets us sleep there for a night or two. But we aren't strictly allowed to; I can make a deal with Westman to let Romulus stay until I'm done, but that's as much shelter as we get."

"That's horrid!" Sirius exclaimed. "Where did you live before you found Romulus?"

"Usually the same thing," Remus said. "Hostels, if I could afford it; homeless shelters when I couldn't; and street corners or the shack if I was desperate. There was a time when I found a meadow full of a magical mushroom, which I managed to sell at a high price for a while. I rented a room then. But I ran out of mushrooms to sell and when I went to pick more, they'd died. I was back on the street not long after that."

"You sold mushrooms for a living?" Sirius asked, confused.

Remus laughed. "Not exactly. I was on the black market - mostly legal things," he added quickly, as though to reassure Sirius. The Black wasn't sure why; his family were into all manner of prohibited goods, and after seeing how Remus was treated by society and the law, Sirius was no longer sure that wizards had the right of it. Also, the "mostly" part of that sentence rendered the more assuring part of that statement null. "But I sold goods out of the eye of the law - they'd discredit me if I didn't," Remus continued. "Wizards and witches with something to hide wouldn't care if I was a hag who'd just had a feast on the livers of children. I can use that to my advantage."

"Why didn't you continue?" Sirius asked. Remus shrugged.

"I'm not sure which was the more dangerous part of the job – my customers, or the items I sold. I didn't care about my own skin, but after Rom joined me I couldn't risk him too when I picked up something like an Erumpent horn, or if I sold to a violent wizard who'd come looking for a refund. Also, it didn't really bring in enough money to support us both."

"So you actually don't live anywhere?" Sirius' tone had turned thoughtful now, and, seeing that Romulus had finished his dessert, he waved the waitress over for a bill. He eyed the total and thanked Merlin for pub rates. The money he carried with him was almost twice the sum of the meal.

He paid and they strolled leisurely out onto the street. It wasn't as bustling as he'd remembered Hogsmeade to be but, then again, he'd mostly only been to the village on designated Hogsmeade weekends when the streets were packed to bursting with excited students. Also, it was still early in the morning; most sensible people were still in bed, or stumbling blearily around the kitchen executing some semblance of their morning routine.

"You two aren't too tired, are you?" he asked. For some reason, he hoped they'd say no; he didn't want this morning to end, and he certainly didn't want to part with them. He felt as though he'd found a better friend in Remus than he had in all his years at Hogwarts.

Remus glanced at Romulus, who looked back up at him with wide eyes. An unspoken communication passed between them and Remus smiled. "No," he said. "We aren't."

* * *

Sirius returned to Grimmauld Place later that afternoon both exhausted and fulfilled. He'd spent an amazing, but tiring, day with Remus and Romulus, hunting the magical streets and shops for things they might need. Within a few hours, he'd brought the younger werewolf an entire wardrobe and a suitcase to put it in, with a built-in extension charm that made the space inside it about the size of a house. He joked that the two of them could probably fit themselves in there on cold nights.

It had been a poor joke, Sirius realised. Remus had smiled, and neither of them had truly been offended, but it wasn't until later that Sirius had thought back to it and realised how accurate that joke actually was.

Sirius was the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He'd been raised to believe that everyone - including most other purebloods - were inferior to him. Wealth had been his birthright, and he might as well have been _born_ with all the skills he needed to survive in the wizarding world. Not that he needed them; the mention of his name was usually enough to have most people falling over themselves to help him.

Slowly he was beginning to face the fact that Remus was his opposite in every respect. He'd had very little from a young age; Sirius was willing to bet that it had only gone downhill after he was bitten. From then on, it all would have gotten worse; his money, his status, and his allotment in life. Everything that Sirius had been born with and everything he'd taken for granted, Remus had had to fight for. Where people heard Sirius' name and respected him, people heard what Remus was and hated him.

Sirius had no words to describe how he felt about that.

He didn't even think he _could _describe how he felt about that. He didn't know _what _he felt. All he knew was that it was a new feeling, and it wasn't entirely pleasant.

Some of it, he thought he could name. The feelings of his stomach doing somersaults when Remus smiled, the fluttering in his heart and the need to spend more time with the werewolf was all part of a word that Sirius didn't have the courage to say in his mind, let alone out loud. And that word was entangled in all his conflicted views on status, opinions, family, and other such pureblood nonsense that he found ridiculous.

The problem was that, as ridiculous as he found it, he was very reluctant to let it go and admit to himself what his heart already knew.

* * *

"So what did you think of him, Rom?" Remus asked quietly as they prepared for bed. They were in a room that Sirius had offered to pay for - and by "offered", Remus meant "insisted".

He didn't usually ask Romulus open questions, respecting the boy's reluctance to speak. But this was important. "He's nice," Romulus said after a while. His voice sounded like that of an ordinary child, although it was a little cracked from lack of use. "Confused, but nice."

"You only like him because he brought you dessert for breakfast," Remus laughed, ruffling the young werewolf's hair. Romulus grinned.

But when Remus slipped into bed, his arms around Romulus in their usual way, despite the fact they didn't need to keep out the cold here, his face wore no smile. While it boded well that Romulus liked Sirius, Remus didn't know what that meant for him. And he daren't ask what Rom meant by confused; Remus had his own confusion to work out without adding someone else's to his burden.

* * *

Orion smiled as he read the parchment he held in his hand. It was a favourable response - as good as he could ask for, in fact. This prospective son-in-law was wealthy, from a good family, and - most importantly - was willing to leave his family home and move to England. His estates would be sold and added to the Black fortune.

And if the photograph was anything to go by, Sirius wouldn't have a problem with his aesthetics.

He reached for a quill, the corners of his mouth still turned up in a smirk. He'd take a visit to Italy this weekend, and meet this young man's father in person.

Things were slotting into place.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'd like to make a note on how it seems odd that Orion is so accepting of Sirius' sexuality. Usually I write it so that he _isn't _accepting, and I know most other fanfictions are like that. However, I'm taking the opportunity to write from another viewpoint: that in the wizarding world, being gay was never really an unaccepted part of society. Like the lack of woman's oppression in wizarding history, in the society I've made for the purpose of this fic, being gay isn't necessarily a bad thing (other than the fact Sirius himself cannot produce an heir). **

* * *

Sirius slept most of the morning, exhausted from almost twenty-four hours of wandering around London. Once he'd woken up, he'd had Kreacher bring him breakfast and spent the afternoon doing the reports and finances that he hadn't done the night before. He worked extra-fast in an attempt to make up the time, probably making hundreds of mistakes as he did so. But even with his inhuman speed, it was late evening by the time he'd done anywhere near enough work to pacify his slave-driver of a father.

He slipped into his father's study about an hour before the evening meal, hoping that he could put the completed half of the papers on the desk without having to initiate a conversation. He was out of luck.

"Evening Sirius," Orion said dryly. "It's good to see you're up."

"Sorry, Father," Sirius said. "I dropped into the brothel and lost track of time. I have half the paperwork here, and should have the rest done within the next few days."

Orion gave Sirius a look that was not difficult to interpret: disapproval. Sirius would have to be careful for the next few weeks.

The problem with that was careful was the last thing Sirius wanted to be. He wanted - no, needed - to seek out Remus again; to talk to him and make sure he was alright. He couldn't afford to be careful if it meant being more distant from Remus.

"I have to go now," he said hurriedly. "I have an appointment with a man high up in the ministry. I'm hoping to win him over; he's influential in the making of laws. He could be useful to us someday."

"Very well," Orion nodded after a moment. "I hope your venture is successful."

Sirius left quickly, but it wasn't until he was halfway down the street that he realised that his father didn't ask him for a name like he usually would have. He didn't want to be paranoid, but this worried him.

He thought about it for a moment and then shrugged it off. He had bigger concerns.

* * *

When he reached the inn that he'd left Remus and Romulus in, Sirius inquired about a ragged man and a young child who'd stayed there the night before. The bustling housekeeper had told him that they'd left a few hours ago. Sirius asked her a few more questions, but all he received for his troubles was a hit on the head with a large feather-duster. Apparently he was getting in her way and distracting her from her chores.

He went to the Shrieking Shack next but found no trace of them there, either. He really didn't want to go to the brothel, but he knew of nowhere else where the two of them might be.

He was beginning to dislike walking through the door the brothel, he realised.

The first thing he saw was Westman, glaring daggers at someone in a dingy corner. And, in the dingy corner, was Romulus.

He was sitting on one of the three hard seats in the corner of the room, the first time Sirius had seen them used. But this wasn't something he focussed on; he was to busy wondering why Remus wasn't with him.

He made his way over to the corner, completely ignoring Westman. "Hey Rom," Sirius said. "Where's Remus?"

Romulus shrugged, and Sirius remembered that he didn't talk. But then the boy said, "In a room with an old man."

The other day, had Romulus spoken, Sirius would have been surprised. Even now, if he'd said something different, Sirius would have been more intrigued that Romulus had spoken at all than by what he said. But not now.

He should have been expecting something like that, Sirius would realise later. After all, he was asking the whereabouts of a prostitute in a brothel. But it caught him by surprise, and he felt anger rise up inside him. "Which room?" he asked.

"Second on the left."

Sirius got up carefully, his smooth movements masking how he felt. He made his way up to Westman's desk.

"I want to see Remus Lupin," he told the man, his tone brooking no argument.

"I'm sorry," Westman said, not sounding very sorry at all. "But he's with a client right now."

"I don't care," Sirius said through gritted teeth. "I want to see him."

"You can't," Westman said. "He's wi-"

"I don't care if he's with the fucking Minister of Magic," Sirius interrupted. "I want to see him. _Now!_"

"You-" Westman began to say, but Sirius was already pushing past him.

He strode down the hallway. Second door on the right, Romulus had said. Right now, Sirius didn't care if he had to burst through every single door in that hallway; a blanket of rage enshrouded his mind, and the possible consequences of his actions mattered little to him.

He threw the door wide open with such force that it slammed back on its hinges. All he could see was the body of a man on a rickety old bed, on his knees thrusting forwards in a rhythmic motion. Before Sirius could process this image, his wand was out and pointing at the man.

"_Incarcerous_!" he yelled. The spell had such a force behind it that the ropes shooting out of his wand actually threw the man off the bed as they wrapped themselves around him. Unfortunately, this had repercussions for Remus as the man was both inside him and holding onto his legs in an awkward position. While he wasn't thrown from the bed, he landed awkwardly on the floor on the opposite side to his customer.

"Remus," Sirius said, hastening to his side. His anger was forgotten in his worry that Remus might be hurt.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Remus asked, pushing himself up into a less vulnerable position. He blushed when he realised he was unclothed, and pulled the sheets from the bed with such fury and strength that they came untucked instantly. He used them to cover his naked body and obvious erection.

"That guy was… was… was…." Sirius struggled to find words to express just what had been happening to Remus. "Was _taking advantage_ of you," he finished lamely.

"Well done, Sirius," Remus said snidely. "That's what happens every night that someone wants me. That's what I do. It's how I live. You might be able to afford pride - you, who have enough money to throw at random people living on the street - but some of us have to do things we don't like to feed ourselves! If I don't let people fuck me, then I starve, and Romulus starves. What the hell gives you the right to barge in here and lose me my night's takings?"

"I don't like it," Sirius said petulantly. "It's not right."

"That's right it's not!" Remus shouted. "Weren't you listening? I don't have another choice!"

Sirius was about to reply angrily, but an indignant voice came from the other side of the bed. "Where's the bastard that tied me up? Come and release me, immediately!"

Sirius flicked his wand, and heard the familiar slithering sound of the ropes falling away. He pointed his wand at the air above the bed. Slowly, and with a lot of effort, the man pushed himself up from his position on the floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked Sirius angrily when he saw him and the wand pointing at him.

"What I should have done the first night I met him," Sirius told him. "Now get out. And don't let me see you again, or I won't let you go so easily."

The man hesitated for a moment as though he considered arguing, but seemed to decide against it when Sirius raised his wand an inch higher. He grabbed his clothes (he was still naked) and hastily made his way out the door. If Sirius had been in a better mood, he would have felt a spark of amusement when he thought of the man returning to reception in that state.

"I'll pay you," he said to Remus immediately. "I'll pay you for what I interrupted tonight. And I'll pay you for the sex you would have had with people but don't. I'll pay you to stay off the streets. Just please, don't keep doing this."

Remus was caught off-guard by his desperate plea. "Why?" he asked, the anger in his tone replaced with bafflement.

"Because… fuck Remus, because you're worth it. You're worth every sickle, every galleon. You're worth every ounce of gold in this world, five times over. I don't care what it takes, but you can't keep doing this!"

"Why do you care so much?" Remus' voice was still interrogative, but now it was because he was curious rather than furious.

"I… I…." Sirius tried to find words for why he didn't want Remus to keep doing what he was doing. Really, he hadn't yet explained his reasoning to himself.

What was his reasoning?

Everything about Remus fascinated Sirius. From the very moment he'd seen him in that line, he'd wondered about the young werewolf with the unbroken spirit. And gradually, as he'd got to know Remus better (mostly over the past few days) he'd realised that the werewolf was nothing short of amazing.

It was an with a jolt that Sirius realised they'd only met a month ago, and spent most of that time away from each other. It had only been a matter of _hours _that he'd spent with Remus, and already he'd affected him so much.

But the question was _how _had it affected him?

"This," he said finally. "I care because of this."

And then he was leaning forwards and pressing his lips to Remus'.

They were dry and chapped, and probably not all that clean. But the roughness felt good, and it only accented the gentle fineness of Remus body and facial features. He watched as Remus' eyes widened in shock before they fluttered closed.

Just when Sirius thought everything was going to be alright - better than alright, in fact - the illusion was shattered. "Get off me!" Remus snarled, pushing Sirius away. Sirius fell backwards and blinked at him. "That's what you wanted?" Remus was furious, and Sirius didn't understand why. Surely he swung that way? He had sex with guys on a regular basis, after all. Sirius had just assumed...

"Sex? All this time, I thought you were a decent guy and all you wanted was a more high-class way of getting in my pants! What, did you regret letting me slip through your fingers that first night? Thought you'd come and rectify the wrong?"

Sirius decided he needed a new brain. His current one was too slow and wasn't quite keeping up with these speedy developments. "Wha- no! That's not-"

"Then what was it, Sirius?" Remus asked, and the Black was afraid the werewolf was going to continue yelling, but he fell silent. With dismay, Sirius realised the tawny-haired boy was fighting back tears.

"That's not it," he said, more calmly and with a gentleness that their argument had lacked so far. "Not really. I don't want to get in your pants. Well, I don't _just _want to get in your pants. I want to do all the other things too, like eat together and spend time together and just _kiss _you and go for walks together. I want to hug you when you're sad… and when you're happy and when you're excited and when you're laughing and whenever you want to be hugged."

He looked up at Remus, whose tears had now fallen, making tear-tracks down his face. "I want to wake up beside you. I want to….," he reached out, and his hands found one of Remus. "I want to spend hours playing with your hands because they're beautiful. I want to get a dog together and name him… and name him Snuffles."

"Snuffles?" Remus laughed through his tears.

"Yeah," Sirius said. "Because you're snuffling now." And Remus was. Sirius wasn't sure why he was crying - or rather, what emotion he was crying from. Perhaps it was a whole range of them; perhaps it was because there were too many emotions and he was overwhelmed. But he was sniffing and snuffling, and Sirius really wished he had a tissue or handkerchief to offer him.

Remus laughed again through his tears, and Sirius shuffled over to him and put his arms around his shoulders. "That would be nice," Remus said softly. "It would be wonderful, but you're forgetting that I'm a werewolf."

"I don't care," Sirius said instantly. "Hell, I've come this far. A little transformation can't make much of a difference."

"It can," Remus muttered, and turned to face Sirius. The Black could have groaned; why couldn't they just enjoy the peace and warm fuzzy feelings he knew they were both experiencing now? "I'm a monster," he continued, "and a social outcast. If you continue with this, then you'll never be normal."

Sirius snorted. "It's gotta be better than how I am now," he said. Then he added more seriously, "I don't care about all that, Remus, honestly. All I know is that everything will be alright if I'm with you."

"You barely know me."

"I know you enough to say that I'm in l-"

Before he could finish his sentence, he felt a hand over his mouth. "Don't say it," Remus pleaded. "If you say it and then you leave me, I don't know what I'll do. Don't say it until you're sure."

"I _am _sure," Sirius said.

"Then just wait anyway. Please, for me."

"Alright. But, just for the record, I _am_. Me not saying it doesn't change anything."

"If you say so," Remus said. He gave a small smile which made lit up his face, beauty radiating from it despite the tear tracks on his face, his sniffly nose and his bloodshot eyes. Sirius couldn't help it; he kissed the werewolf again.

Remus kissed back this time, closing his eyes and leaning forwards. Sirius' tongue flicked out and ran its way across the other boy's bottom lip. Remus moaned and granted him entrance into his mouth, dropping the sheet by accident as enthusiasm took him over. It collapsed into folds in his lap so that it was covering nothing but his groin.

Sirius' heart was pounding, excitement coursing through his body. Never had he been in such an intimate situation with someone before. All his senses seemed to quadruple and he could suddenly feel every move Remus was making.

He pressed himself further against Remus, and became aware not only of the werewolf's already aroused state but his own reaction to this kiss.

Remus pushed him away, and Sirius moved back reluctantly. He knew the other boy was right; this was not the time or the place to be doing such a thing, and he wanted it to be special when it happened. Still, it was remarkably difficult to pull back.

Coughing awkwardly, Sirius fetched Remus his clothes and turned his back while the werewolf dressed. It felt silly to be so shy after the activity they'd been engaging in, but it also felt perverted to watch.

They exited the room and walked down the hall to reception. Making their way over to where Romulus was still sitting, Sirius glanced over his shoulder to see Westman grinning at him in a way that made Sirius shiver. It wasn't too hard to guess what he was smiling about.

"Come on," he muttered to Remus. "We have to get to my place before Westman alerts my father to what just happened."

"Is that bad?" Remus asked with a frown as he took Romulus' hand.

"Yeah. We also need to get to Gringotts and transfer some money into my personal account; I have enough to last us, but my inheritances from various family members are still in the Black family vault, which my father can lock me out of."

"You really think they'll kick you out?" Remus asked.

"I think they'll disown me to boot," Sirius said grimly.

"I thought your father seemed okay about you being gay," Remus mused. Sirius laughed bitterly.

"He is," Sirius said. "It'll be your social status that's the problem."

They'd reached the corner of the street. He fished into his pocket and pulled out several coins. "Go take a room at the place you stayed at last night," he told Remus, pressing the money into his hand. "I can't sneak into the house with you, and the goblins won't let you accompany me to the vaults anyway. I'll be there as soon as I'm done."

"What happens then?" Remus asked worriedly.

Sirius smiled. "Then we find a more permanent lodging - overseas, if necessary. We get some food. We think and talk, and sort everything out later. We just need to do this first."

Remus nodded, and Sirius pulled him into a quick embrace before apparating away.

* * *

He was glad the front door was oiled regularly as he made his way quietly through it. His mother was in the living room, but if he was careful he could avoid her. He crept down the hall and soon found himself at the staircase. He hoped his father wouldn't notice him.

These were a little creakier, but were harder to hear from the kitchen, so they mattered less. He must have looked pretty strange, sneaking up them as though he was a burglar; that was probably why Regulus stopped him.

"Sirius? What are you doing?" his brother asked.

"Shh!" Sirius gestured frantically for him to keep his voice down.

"Are you drunk?" Regulus asked suspiciously.

"No, I am not drunk," Sirius hissed at him. "It's barely early evening. I'm sneaking in."

"I can see that," Regulus said, amused. "What I want to know is why."

Sirius hesitated. While he didn't want to let his parents know what was going on, this was _Reg_, his baby brother. Granted, they didn't always see eye-to-eye, and they often went weeks without speaking to each other when they were fighting, but that was happening less and less now that they were no longer kids. And, when he felt like his parents had been getting too much for him, Reg had always been there, whether it was distracting his parents for him when he was in trouble, or offering advice when he needed it.

"I'm running away," he said.

"What?" Regulus exclaimed, failing to keep his voice down. Sirius shushed him again. "Why?" he asked, more quietly.

"I've… I've fallen in love," Sirius said.

Regulus raised his eyebrow. "Pardon?" he asked, a little bit to calmly.

"I'm eloping," Sirius told him. "I've found someone I love, and I won't lose him."

"A mudblood, then?"

"Half. But father will never accept him." Sirius didn't think Regulus would take it well if he told him Remus was a werewolf. Regulus would understand a mudblood - for a pureblood, he was rather open-minded when it came to blood purity. But Sirius would have been pushing it trying to get his blessing had it been a muggle, and he knew a werewolf stood no chance of being accepted by Regulus.

"You're probably right. How long have you known him?"

"…A month."

"A _month_? And you think you're in love with him? Bloody hell, Sirius, have you gone mental? You're throwing away your life and your family for someone you've known a month?" Regulus' voice was incredulous, and Sirius bristled.

"Yes," he said stoutly. "I love him."

"And have you ever been in love before?"

"…No."

"Then how do you know it's the real deal?"

"I just do, okay. You'll know, one day when you meet someone."

"Sure I will. Are you sure you have to do this? Can't you wait a while - keep it a secret for a few more months? What harm will it do?"

"It's already public. I sort of… made a display of my affection for him today."

"You don't do anything by half measures, do you?" Regulus asked, sounding as though half of him was impressed and the other half thought Sirius was mad.

Sirius grinned. "Anyway, I have to get out of here before Father finds out."

"Father's gone away for the weekend," Regulus informed him. "So you can stay here 'til he comes back."

But Sirius was already shaking his head. "I can't risk it. I wish I could, but I can't."

There was silence for a moment, and Regulus said almost conversationally, "She'll blast you off the tapestry."

"Yeah."

"I won't be allowed to speak with you."

"I'll miss that. You could write."

"I could try."

"We could knock them off over the next few months, and then you'd be head of the family and could talk to me." It wasn't particularly funny, but they both laughed anyway.

"We'll talk again," Sirius said after a while, trying to ignore the way his throat was closing up. "Even if we have to wait fifty years for them to die. We _will_ catch up someday."

"Fifty years is a long time," Regulus whispered.

Then Sirius was hugging his younger brother, and both of them were trying not to cry. "You're welcome to visit me any time you want," he said. "If you ever need a break."

"Thank you."

"Don't forget me."

"I couldn't if I tried."

"Don't… don't let them make you hate me."

"Never, Siri. Never."

They parted, both wiping their eyes. "Bye, Regulus," Sirius said, turning to go up to his room.

"Goodbye," Regulus said.

It didn't take long for Sirius to collect the things he'd need; he doubted most of his possessions were necessary. Slowly, he made his way down the landing towards the front door. He'd been hoping to glimpse Regulus again, but the door was ominously shut.

As he left the house, he gave it one last backward glance. It was a dingy house; grand in a wealthy way, but dark and foreboding - not a place many people were sorry to leave. And Sirius wasn't _sorry_; not really. But up till now, he'd spent all his life either there or at Hogwarts; it felt very strange to realise he'd never see it again.

It didn't quite hurt as much as the knowledge that he was leaving his brother behind. But he supposed that with Reg, he nursed the small hope that he might visit Sirius in secret, or send him a letter or two.

Someday, he hoped they'd be able to be brothers again.

But right now, Sirius had to do this. He had to make his own life; his own way in the world. And he wanted to do that with Remus.

He turned away and walked down the street, not even sparing it another look.


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning: MalexMale sex; graphic description of sexual activities; oral; anal; rimming; and fluff. In any of this disturbs you, please skip this chapter. It doesn't really have a lot of plot, so you won't be missing much. **

Sirius' head rested in the crook of Remus' arm. "Why so quiet, love?" he murmured.

It had been almost a week since the night Sirius had all but swept Remus up in his strong, manly arms and whisked him away into the sunset. Of course, the image had been somewhat spoiled by the rain they'd been caught in not long after, the small, but cute, Romulus who'd been trailing along behind him, and by the fact that 'sunset' actually meant 'lice-ridden pub room'.

Although if Sirius had to hazard a guess, he would have to say it was probably the hundred-or-so howlers that _really_ spoiled the mood. Once his mother had found out, he'd received a dozen or so screaming letters within the first day alone, and in the days following they'd just kept coming.

Then his father had returned to the country.

But Sirius pushed them from his mind. Too many wonderful things had happened to him to dwell on the bad stuff. They'd managed to find a two-bedroom flat, move in, and start furnishing it with necessary objects such as chairs, a table and, to Remus' dismay, a muggle lighter collection.

Sirius had applied for several jobs so he could support them before their funds ran out and, while he had yet to hear back from any of them, he was exceptionally positive about some of the interviews.

"Just thinking," Remus murmured.

"Hm? 'Bout what?"

"You know. Stuff," Remus replied. "The future. Whether I can get a job or not. How pleasantly warm and gorgeous you are."

"Of course, that last one is the one you're thinking about most, right?"

"Egotist," Remus laughed, and gave Sirius a light shove before settling his head back onto the other man's chest.

"Is Romulus asleep?" Sirius asked. He felt like he was ten years older than he actually was when he asked that. He'd grown remarkably fond of the quiet boy, and he imagined that being a parent felt similar to this.

"Yeah. He went off about half an hour ago."

A tender smile crossed Sirius face. Never had he been this happy before, and he even if he lived to be two hundred years old, he knew that it was this time that would remain ingrained in his memory as the most perfect days of his life. "I love you, you know," he told Remus, idly lifting the werewolf's hand so he could play with his fingers.

"I know," Remus said.

"And you love me too." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Forever and always."

Remus turned his head and made great effort to wriggle up Sirius' body so he could lean in for a kiss. The werewolf was still so unsure about these displays of affection that his technique was both gentle and endearing. They'd talked about it once.

"I guess I've become so used to just… screwing," Remus had said haltingly when Sirius had mentioned it. The word 'screwing' sounded so vulgar and wrong when coming from Remus' mouth. He might have seen and done things that men much older than him had never even heard of, but he still had an innocence that caused a protectiveness to rise up in Sirius.

"I'm not as familiar with kissing," he continued. "It's so foreign; when you kiss me, you're showing me that you love me, and I'm letting you show me by continuing that kiss. I've never had that before."

"Had you kissed anyone before?" Sirius had asked.

Remus had nodded. "Yeah, when it was required. But it was rough and uncaring - nothing like this." Then he added, "I like kissing you like this."

Whenever Sirius recalled that final sentence, said with such adorable sweetness, he wanted to take Remus in his arms and squeeze him, never letting him go.

So he did.

Well, he did the first part. Obviously, he'd have to let the werewolf go eventually, although he'd do so reluctantly. He slowly wrapped his arms around Remus' slim body, drawing the werewolf so close to him that the warmth of their body's flowed between them. He began to kiss him passionately, making small panting noises into his mouth as their kiss deepened.

What started off as sweet and tender soon grew more frenzied, and evidence of their actions soon grew between them. "Remus," Sirius breathed as the werewolf began to rut against them.

Remus moaned in response, thrusting his clothed hardness against Sirius' matching condition. Their breath came out in uneven gasps as Sirius felt himself get more and more aroused by the boy on top of him.

They'd done this about two nights ago - frottage, Sirius thought it was called. The experience had been enough to take his breath away, and he could tell from Remus' face that he'd felt the same. It had been something magical; to come in his pants at the same time his partner did, as though a bond of love and lust was being forged between them. Sirius knew the theory of sex between men - proper sex, going all the way - but it had surprised him how amazing it had been to just go _part _of the way.

But now, Remus' fingers found their way beneath the hem of Sirius' shirt, running over the tight muscles of his abdomen. They moved up, and Sirius discovered with no small amount of surprise that he was slightly ticklish. He squirmed, and Remus grinned widely, exacting a few more seconds of torture on his lover before his fingers went for a new target.

Still those hands moved upwards, and Sirius wondered just how far they were going to go. Up past his abdomen they travelled, moving onto his breast, skating lightly over his skin until they reached his… oh. Oh, that felt good.

The nimble fingers flicked over Sirius' nipples, and he couldn't hold back his mewl of pleasure. He arched up into the touch, although his chest wasn't the only part of him that moved. His groin moved likewise, moving roughly against Remus' own erection and causing a similar sound to be pulled from the werewolf.

"Wait," he said, panting. He grasped Remus' wrists, halting the pleasure those hands were exacting upon him.

At that moment, he had to wonder what he was doing. Here he was, lying beneath an aroused Remus in the most erotic position Sirius' mind could think of, receiving no small amount of pleasure with the promise of receiving more if he allowed the werewolf to continue. But still, he stopped the proceedings.

Because no matter how good it felt, what Sirius had with Remus was special. It was worth more than a few hours of sex and pleasure. It was worth more than casually getting off, only to find the situation between the strained and awkward the next morning. This had to be done right.

"Are you sure you want this?" Sirius asked Remus, his eyes serious. "Because I don't want to do this if you aren't ready."

"I've done this before, Sirius," Remus said, rolling his eyes.

"I know," Sirius replied. "And I don't want this to be like that. When you were working in the brothel, you were doing this because you got money for it. I want this to be because we love each other, not because you think I want it."

"It is like that," Remus said. "I do love you, and I want you because of our love. How can I show you that?"

"Let me show you what pleasure feels like." The words came out in an unexpectedly husky tone, which surprised Sirius. However, Remus' reaction was enough to tell him that it only served to further the eroticness of the words.

"Okay," Remus whispered breathlessly.

With a single move, Sirius rolled them over so their positions were reversed. He was now on top of the werewolf, looking down on the adorable, vulnerable, sexy boy below him. He immediately set to work on the bare neck exposed to him, just asking to be bitten. Remus was his, and Sirius wanted to world to know it.

Small moans tore themselves from the werewolf's throat as Sirius bit and licked and nuzzled into that pale flesh. The noises caused vibrations in his throat, and Sirius got a strange satisfaction from feeling them on his lip. "Sirius," Remus moaned as he writhed beneath him.

Sirius hand went down the hem of Remus' shirt and he went to wriggle it up the werewolf's body so he could pull it over his head, but a pair of scarred hands stopped him. "Wait," Remus begged.

Sirius stopped immediately. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

Remus blushed. "I… I don't want you to see them," he said, not meeting Sirius' eyes. "They're ugly."

It took Sirius a moment to work out what he was talking about. Then he let a small chuckle escape his lips. "Silly," he told Remus. "I've already seen them. And they're very beautiful scars."

Remus still wasn't looking at Sirius' face. "That was different," he muttered. "You were dressing my wounds. This is sex… this is _love_. I'm ugly."

"No," Sirius said immediately. "No, you aren't. And love… love goes beyond what's beautiful and ugly. I love you for who you are, and not what you look like. I want you because you're Remus, not because you're hot. Although," he added with a smirk, "you look damn good from where I'm standing."

"They're still ugly," Remus said insistently.

Sirius frowned. "Do you trust me, Remus?" he asked.

Remus looked surprised. "Why do you ask?"

"Just answer the question. Do you trust me or not?"

"Of course. Why?"

"Then let me lift your shirt."

Remus hesitated, but finally nodded. His hands fell from where they were stopping Sirius, and he leaned backwards in defeat.

Sirius lifted the shirt to reveal a network of scars criss-crossing over Remus' skin. Some of them were old ones, probably so old that he'd received them in his childhood. These ones were faded and small. Others were clearly newer, shown by the angry redness and harshness of the uneven skin. Sirius even recognised some that he himself had seen to when he'd found Remus those mere days ago.

Those were the worst, but even they were well healed. And while Remus might think they made him ugly, Sirius saw nothing but an amazing beauty in them. Here was the very essence of what the werewolf was - the proof of his past and his condition, mapped out on his skin in a language only a god could read.

He lowered his face to the marred skin, poking his tongue out and flicking it over one of the smaller scars. He was aware that, above him, Remus had his eyes shut as though afraid that if he looked he might see disgust written in Sirius' face.

Sirius drew his tongue along one. He felt Remus shiver at the sensation, and repeated it again with another scar, and then another. Remus moaned.

He did it again and again until saliva was glistening along every one of them. Remus' breath came quickly as he struggled to lie still under Sirius' ministrations. "Ooh, Sirius," he moaned.

"Let me take care of you, Remus," Sirius begged. "I want to make love to you. I want to show you what it can be like."

As he spoke, his hand moved southwards, travelling down the length of the werewolf's body until it reached his erect member. He palmed it through the cloth.

"Hah," Remus panted. It really wasn't fair, Sirius supposed, that he was making it so difficult for the werewolf to say no. Sure enough, moments later he panted out, "Yes… please…."

Sirius grinned and began to rub the bulge in Remus' pants with more enthusiasm. The werewolf was now chanting "Oh" like a mantra, and Sirius had to wonder how close he was.

He began tugging at the other boy's clothes, and it wasn't long before Remus was naked and Sirius was halfway there. The werewolf's erect cock jutted out from his body, glistening even in the half-light of the room. Remus, his inhibitions gone, cried out as Sirius' hand wrapped around it.

Sirius smirked at the werewolf's reaction, and lowered his head so that the weeping head brushed his lips. Remus' eyes widened. "What are you-" he asked.

Or, at least, he tried to. At that moment, Sirius took the member in his mouth, pushing it as far back in his throat as it would go before it choked him. He couldn't quite take it all, but he wrapped his hand around the rest of the cock that he had to leave exposed.

His action had the desired effect. Remus was immediately cut off, and Sirius had to hold his hips down to stop him from bucking up. Before the werewolf could even regain his thoughts, let alone his breath, Sirius began moving his head up and down, bobbing on Remus dick.

He wasn't sure what it would feel like to the werewolf as he'd never had sex before, but he'd heard it was pleasant. Remus' reaction seemed to prove that theory right; he couldn't seem to help the loud and incessant moans coming from his mouth. Where before the sounds Remus was making were occasional, they now became a constant symphony that made Sirius' own member ache. He was becoming uncomfortably aware that his pants were more constraining than was preferable in this situation.

He moved downwards so that his tongue was running over Remus' crack. The werewolf stiffened in surprise and sat up. Sirius stopped immediately. "Sorry," he said quickly, regretting going so far without asking. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't really," Remus said, his expression dazed. "It's just… well, you _want _to do that?"

Sirius shrugged. "Yeah," he said. "I mean, if we were to go further I'd have to stretch you anyway, so it's like… I might as well."

"Are you sure?" Remus asked, still looking like he was having trouble comprehending it. Sirius nodded.

"I wouldn't have done it if I wasn't."

He waited expectantly and finally Remus nodded. "Alright then," he agreed. "If you're certain you want to."

"I am." He lowered his head once more, and Remus lay back and closed his eyes.

His tongue lapped at Remus' entrance and he slowly began to slip it inside. The werewolf tensed at first, but the tongue was nowhere near as intrusive as fingers would have been. In fact, it was more pleasurable. Sirius' tongue was naturally wet, and was a lot more flexible. It wasn't long before the werewolf was writhing in pleasure as the tongue moved inside him.

Remus began to tremble, which Sirius saw as a sign that his end was close. His erection almost unbearable now, he pulled off his shirt, trousers and underwear so that he was as naked as the werewolf he was standing in front of.

"Can I…?" he asked, his throbbing member almost painful now.

There was no hesitation. Remus nodded, even struggling up so that he could pull Sirius towards him.

No words were needed as Sirius lined himself up. A look was shared, a look which said everything that could ever be spoken or felt, and then Sirius was pushing slowly into Remus.

The werewolf drew a shaky breath. "Does it hurt?" Sirius asked softly.

"A little," Remus replied in a small whisper.

Sirius waited, reaching down and playing with Remus' cock in the meantime. Although he hadn't intended it to have such an effect, Remus was soon moaning beneath him, his mind suitably distracted from the pain of the intrusion.

Subtly, Sirius pushed forwards. He thought that Remus did notice what he was doing, but the pleasure he was receiving was too great to pay it much attention. It wasn't long before Sirius was fully sheathed in Remus and was gasping for breath due to the heat.

He ceased touching Remus' cock in favour for pulling out of him and sliding back in. Remus moaned, but it was only partly mixed with pain now.

After a few thrusts, Remus muttered for Sirius to move faster. That single word - that _command_ - excited Sirius, and he felt his cock throb. He was getting closer and closer now. He wondered how far away Remus was.

He reached down once more and grasped Remus' erection. He stroked it in time with his thrusts, which were getting stronger and faster. Remus was no longer moaning in pain now, but totally in pleasure, and he began to thrust back downwards, moving in time with Sirius.

"Stop," Remus gasped after a few minutes. "If you keep touching me, I'll come."

"I'll come with you," Sirius replied, wrenching a moan from the werewolf.

Soon their thrusts became frantic, and it wasn't long before Remus climaxed. He spasmed around Sirius, who couldn't stand the tightness for long and followed the werewolf.

They came down from their orgasm together, and Sirius slid out of his lover. Remus gasped slightly, and buried his head in Sirius' shoulder, nuzzling his neck. "I'm sorry," Sirius said. "That'll hurt in the morning."

"Hurts a little now," Remus mumbled. Sirius felt a stab of guilt, although it was reduced when the werewolf added, "But it was worth it."

Sirius slipped the covers over them and held Remus tenderly in his arms. He wanted to say something, but he didn't have words perfect enough to match that perfect moment. Instead, he watched Remus as he drifted off into sleep.

He wondered whether what they'd just done should symbolise the end of his old life, or the beginning with his new one… or something. He couldn't really go back to his family now, and he could only move forwards with Remus. In a way, it was as though having sex had cemented their relationship. It was a huge step for them, and Sirius felt like it should mean something important.

Of course, it felt big. He'd just properly lost his virginity, and it was a new stage in their relationship, but it didn't feel like the end of his old life or the beginning of his new one like he'd expected. That had happened when he'd walked out of Grimmauld place with a bag over his shoulder and without a final goodbye to Reg. Sure, he'd farewelled his younger brother, but he regretted not going back to his room to say one last word.

So it wasn't an end or a beginning, but more of a continuation. Yes, that's what it was; more of a never-ending story that Sirius hoped would never end. He felt so happy, so joyous, at that moment, and not even the thought that it wouldn't always be like this could dampen his spirits. He knew there'd be bad times to come.

And, as he looked down at Remus, he knew he'd get through them. Because he had Remus, and he'd always have Remus, and that would make it worth it in the end.

**Okay, so originally this is where the story ended. I do have ideas for continuing, but I'm not yet sure if I will or not. So watch this space!**


End file.
